Chapter 4 - The Wild Within
Three days later, the world of concrete, canvas, and coffee shops felt like a distant, hazy dream.
We hiked three miles up into the timberline, far past the gravel roads and the tourist trails, until the trees grew stunted and the air tasted thin and sharp. Rowan carried a heavy canvas pack filled with supplies, but I walked light, wearing thermal layers and heavy hiking boots that gripped the rocky soil.
My body felt different. Every sound in the forest—the snap of a distant twig, the rush of snowmelt in a creek a mile away, the beating wings of a hawk high above the canopy—was razor-sharp.
“Stop here,” Rowan said, dropping his pack beside a massive granite boulder that overlooked the entire valley.
I stopped, breathing heavily, wiping sweat from my forehead. “Why here?”
“Because you need to stop fighting it,” he said, turning to face me. He shrugged off his jacket, letting the cool mountain wind ruffle his dark hair. “Since the day you shifted in your kitchen, you’ve been terrified of what happened. You’re treating the bear like an infection, Chloe. Like a disease you need to cure.”
“It is terrifying, Rowan! I turned into a wild animal!”
“You are a wild animal,” he said gently, stepping closer. “You just forgot how to listen to the part of you that predates cities and art schools. Close your eyes.”
“Rowan—”
“Do it.”
I closed my eyes. The darkness behind my eyelids was filled with the sound of his breathing and the rustle of pine needles in the wind.
“Focus on the heartbeat inside you,” he murmured, his voice closing the distance until his chest pressed against mine. I could feel his heart—steady, powerful, thrumming with a deep, bass rhythm. “Not just yours. The other one. The small one. And the one beneath your skin, waiting to wake up.”
He reached out, his warm palms resting gently on my waist.
“Don’t panic when the heat starts,” he whispered against my temple. “Let it in. Let the beast know she’s safe.”
A spark of heat—hotter and fiercer than the one in the kitchen—ignited deep in my chest. It didn't feel like a fire burning me away; it felt like a key turning in a lock that had been rusted shut for generations. My bones began to ache, a heavy, delicious pressure building behind my ribs as my shoulder blades broadened and my senses exploded into hyper-color.
When I opened my eyes, the world had changed.
The greens of the pines were deeper, richer, almost vibrating with life. I could smell the damp earth beneath the snow, the ozone of an approaching storm miles away, and the clean, intoxicating scent of Rowan’s skin.
May you like
I let out a low rumble, my hands curling into claws against the stone.
Rowan smiled, a wild, beautiful expression that matched the untamed landscape around us. “There she is.”
